


Open Book

by dremma



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Felix Being a Dick, Gen, Locington mentioned, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29868984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dremma/pseuds/dremma
Summary: Locus may be a cryptic, taciturn motherfucker, but his old partner knows how to read his tells a little too well…
Relationships: Felix | Isaac Gates & Locus | Samuel Ortez, Locus | Samuel Ortez/Agent Washington
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Open Book

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read as being in same universe as Following The Beat Of His Heart but doesn't have to be.

"Look alive, Locus, as soon as they’re in range this party’s startin’.”

Locus shook himself slightly and mumbled assent.

“What’s with you, lately? All distracted and shit. Ever since we found out the sim troopers got back together.” Locus’ helmet didn’t turn his way, but it didn’t need to. Felix could still read him like a book. The way he hesitated before checking his rifle, fingers flexing and unflexing. Defiant refusal to turn Felix’s way or acknowledge him any more than that little _hum_ he did. He’s unsettled, _nervous_.

“You can’t possibly be nervous about this,” Felix continued. “They’re idiots. Even if Washington is leading them…” He took careful note of the almost imperceptible flinch at the mention of the Freelancer, and felt the corners of his mouth tick up. “Even if he is, they’re still morons, and one of them will screw things up and turn things in our favor.” He stared at Locus for a few moments, a wicked grin unfurling beneath his visor. “Worried about little _Agent Washington,_ are you?”

“I am not. Worried.” The words contained far too much punch and venom for a neutral dismissal. Locus turned, checking his grenades and side arms. Felix leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, watching Locus telegraph his emotions like it was the latest episode of a hit TV show, a wild, Cheshire grin baring his teeth.

“So is _Wash_ the little side dish you picked up while you were with the Feds? I mean, good choice really, he’s fucking _ripped_ and those freckles are just _to_ die for--”

Locus turned to him suddenly with a growl of frustration, and Felix stepped back, laughing.

“Hey, I’m not gonna steal him out from under you, man. Just because I’m up for orchestrating genocide for profit doesn’t mean I don’t have my own rules.” He spread his hands in surrender. “I’m just complimenting you on your good taste.”

He’d been genuinely startled by Locus’ violent reaction, and there was a wild tear of adrenaline winding through his veins. He watched Locus’ shoulders heave with fury, watching him desperately try to wind in the emotion. “I could very easily orchestrate this _by myself._ I suggest you watch your mouth.”

Locus getting this wound up over a fling was… interesting. Oh. Oh, _no._

“Oh my god,” Felix muttered, watching Locus’ gaze drift slightly off to the side, the tension in his shoulders, if anything, increasing. “Oh,” he laughed, “my _GOD._ You’re in love with him. The scariest motherfucker this side of the universe... is in love. With that _fussbudget_ , Agent Washington. Oh my god.”

“ ** _Stop. Talking._** ”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Felix laughed, clearly not sorry in the least, “it’s just. You. You _kill_ me. After _all this time._ After everything we’ve done. Everything _you’ve_ done. You’re still just a huge, _fucking_ sap underneath it all, huh?”

Locus’ fists were clenched so tightly he thought he felt the glove material start to tear. “If you need _help_ shutting up, I can provide assistance by crushing your esophagus,” Locus growled, the warring heat of embarrassment and rage combining into a seething inferno within him, flames dancing across his skin.

“Say no more, my friend,” Felix said, unable to work the grin off his face. “Your secret is safe with me. After all,” he said airily, watching blips on his tracker move towards them and adjusting his hold on his DMR, “after we’re done here...who would I even tell?”


End file.
